


Trust is the most precious thing in the world. (So, please, handle with care)

by kiranightshade



Series: My Lost Soul (Lead Me to Redemption) [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blowjobs, Exhibitionism, Fingering, Fluff, Future Polyamory, Hand Feeding, M/M, Marking, Morning Sex, Polyamory Negotiations, Voyeurism, but its all good, hints of somnophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-07
Updated: 2017-03-07
Packaged: 2018-09-30 04:23:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10153571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiranightshade/pseuds/kiranightshade
Summary: For now, let them find peace in each other before they face the world beyond.





	

**Author's Note:**

> There is a warning in the end notes for anyone who may be triggered by sexual manipulation. Nothing major but it's there just in case.

Stiles comes by every day after school. With his help, unpacking only takes a week. He’s even the one to drive Laura’s stuff to a storage unit, and Derek will always be grateful for that.

Now, Stiles is running his hand through Derek’s hair, humming softly while Derek dozes in his lap. They did this a lot in that cell. Whenever Derek was thrown back in and they didn’t immediately grab Stiles while he was down. It’s much easier to sink into it with no threat hanging over them. To melt into his gentle ministrations and just be. 

Stiles was supposed to be at his friend’s house today. Regular bro-time is apparently incredibly vital after the months Stiles spent away. Derek would agree, but his apparent bro to end all bros has barely noticed his absence. This apparent brother, who has never questioned just what his friend is doing every day with two grown men, had to be convinced to reserve Saturdays for them. Derek has yet to receive or be witness to anyone give them any sort of shovel talk and it pisses him off. For all his best friend knows, they could be abusing him. Where are the people in Stiles’ life? How has there been so many dramatic changes in this boy’s life without anyone questioning his behavior? The one time Derek asked, it wasn’t good. He shut down, curled into himself and deflected like the best of them. Derek isn’t able to get anything out of him when he’s like that and he doesn’t want to risk pushing him away by pressing the issue. So, he went to Peter. He didn’t know much either, but he did find that the only one who showed any sign of concern for Stiles’ new scars was an eccentric coach at the high school. 

Point is, this will be the third Saturday in a row that Stiles has spent here rather than at Scott’s. The third time he’s been blown off in favor of a girl of all things. A girl, he might add, that he sees every other day of the week. 

It really pisses Derek off. The idea that anyone would disregard Stiles in such a way is appalling. The worst part is how Stiles still clings to him. How he always acts so excited every day leading up to the weekend and is almost always left with some flimsy excuse from the boy’s mother. Derek can tell it’s hurting him but he won’t even acknowledge something is wrong. He won’t do anything to fix it, and because of it Derek can’t do anything about it either. 

“Is something wrong?” Stiles asks, voice soft as the fingers smoothing out his hair. 

“Hmm?” 

“You got really tense all of a sudden.” Stiles explains.

“It’s nothing. Just thinking.”

Stiles tuts “Derek, what did we say about that?”

Derek huffs “Not to do it while I’m in your lap.”

“Exactly. How are you supposed to relax if you won’t even let me do this for you?”

“Sorry.”

“That’s alright. Just try not to do it again; okay?” Stiles leans down to kiss his forehead and continues threading his fingers through his hair. “Mind if I ask what had you so upset?”

Derek hates lying. He really does. “Just remembering how we started this.”

Stiles’ fingers pause. Frowning, Stiles asks “Should we start something new?”

“No.” Derek brings his hands up to manually thread Stiles’ fingers through his hair until he resumes his petting. “I’m okay. I don’t want to stop.”

Stiles smiles, letting out a small breath. “Okay. You let me know if that ever changes.”

Derek hums and closes his eyes, focusing on the rhythmic glide of Stiles’ fingers. He hears Peter return a few minutes later. The slam of the door is quickly followed by his steady heart beating by the entryway, watching them. Footsteps draw nearer and it is only because it is his alpha that Derek remains pliant as he sits in the cushion that his feet was resting on. Peter doesn’t say a word as he puts on Netflix and rubs circles into his bare ankle. 

Peter puts on some movie that came out two years ago. It’s low enough that Derek doesn’t find it difficult to sink back into his pack’s attentions. 

Derek dozes on and off as Peter tells Stiles about the possible places they could build a house in the preserve. Derek doesn’t really care where it is, or how it’s built. Just so long as they’re all together and safe, he’ll let them decide on any details until they drag him into it. 

For now, he thinks he’ll just be.

 

*** 

 

Peter parks the Camaro next to Stiles’ jeep when he returns from hiring an architect. That in itself is not strange. It’s almost expected even, but what is strange is the fact that it’s seven o’clock and Stiles usually leaves around six so that dinner is ready by the time his dad comes home. Two stories later and Peter can smell something amazing being cooked on the other side of the door. The smell only grows more mouth-watering the closer he gets and he can’t resist calling out “Honey, I’m home.” when he walks in. 

Derek snorts from where he’s reading on the couch. Stiles doesn’t do more than smirk at him until he finishes chopping an onion with a skill Peter wouldn’t expect from someone so young. Peter is leaning against the doorway to the kitchen when Stiles puts down the knife, wipes his hands off on a towel, and faces him. His smirk turns suspiciously sweet and Peter grins. 

“Welcome home darling. I’d offer to take your coat but you’ve got arms. I’d tell you what we’re having for dinner but I don’t think that’d be fair to junior over there.” 

Stiles is in his space now, clearly trying to summon his inner housewife as he slides a hand up his peck to his shoulder and wraps himself around his side. Peter wraps his own arm around his waist and holds on tight. 

“Do I at least get my kiss?”

“Hmm, I suppose.” Stiles turns his cheek before Peter could lean in all the way. “But. First, I’m going to tell you the same thing I told junior.”

Peter smiles into Stiles’ cheek and hums in question.

Stiles’ smile turns wicked and he pushes Peter back a few feet. “Stay out of my kitchen when I’m cooking.” Stiles darts in for a chaste kiss and starts wiping off the cutting board, visibly pleased with himself.

Peter laughs, making his way over to Derek’s side and plopping down on the couch. Derek huffs and flips a page. “Don’t call me junior ever again.” 

He still leans into Peter’s side when he raises his arm in invitation. He’s reading the last Harry Potter book, Peter sees. He’s only halfway through Half-Blood Prince himself. Or he was. He wonders if they still own a copy. He can’t see their- rather pathetic- bookshelf from here, but he can always bring Stiles to the bookstore later.

Peter spends the time waiting for dinner rubbing his thumb back and forth on Derek’s shoulder and listening to his mate shuffle around in the kitchen behind him. It’s weird waiting for food when he’s usually the one preparing it but not entirely unpleasant. He just wishes he knew why he was here.

“His dad is taking a double shift.” Derek flips another page like he didn’t just read Peter’s mind. Peter, for his part, does nothing more than hum absentmindedly as he listens to Stiles prepare three plates. 

Dinner turns out to be onion and potato pierogi. Peter remembers learning it when he went through his European phase. He’s never made it, but he’s made similar polish dishes and this is amazing. 

“How do you know how to cook so well?” Peter moans through the pierogi. Derek’s put down his book and is too busy shoveling it all down to say anything. 

“Practice.” Is all Stiles says in response. His cheeks color as he eats at a more reasonable pace. They’re all huddled around the coffee table because the apartment isn’t big enough for anything resembling a dining table. 

Peter leans into Stiles’ space and kisses him. Smiling, he says “Well, it’s amazing. Thank you.” 

That only makes his blush worse but Peter can almost see him preening. 

“Cooking became a hobby of mine years ago. I made it my mission to learn everything in my baba’s cookbook.”

“I don’t know about the cookbook, but I think you’ve got this one down.” Derek says as he gets up for seconds. 

“Have you thought of going to a culinary school?” Peter asks, carefully light and conversational.

“A bit. To be honest, I always figured I’d go into law enforcement like my dad.”

“You’d make a good sheriff.”

“You think so?”

“I’ll run the campaign.” Peter grins, bumping shoulders. 

Stiles laughs as he rights himself. Derek sits down on his other side instead of next to Peter like he was, his plate piled high. 

“You could always go to a culinary school and see if want to make a career out of it. And if you don’t, no big deal. You could go to the academy afterwards. Or the other way around.” Derek shrugs in between bites.

Stiles huffs out a laugh “It’s sweet how you think I can afford something like that.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. We are more than capable of financing your education.” Peter says.

Stiles gapes “I- I can’t expect you to do that.”

“You can and you will. I’m your alpha darling. And as your alpha it is my pleasure to support you.” Peter leers when he adds “In any way.”

Stiles scoffs and pushes him away, eyes shining when he takes care of their empty plates. Derek is quick to take them from him. “You’re not cooking and cleaning. Don’t be stupid.”

Stiles doesn’t have anything to say to that so he lets Peter take his hand and lead him until he’s laying overtop of Peter on the couch. His head rests in the crook of his neck and he hugs him tighter than usual. Peter wraps his arms around his darling mate just as tightly and ignores his muffled sniffling. 

He’s calmed by the time Derek comes back. There isn’t enough room for them all to spread out on the couch. So, Derek settles down on the floor next to their heads and rests his head on his crossed arms on the cushions. Stiles reaches out and cards his hand through his hair. Peter does the same on Derek’s other side and rests his hand on the back of his neck. 

Eventually, Stiles falls asleep. Derek moves so that his back is resting on the couch and returns to his book. Peter simply basks in the warmth of his pack surrounding him. 

Hours pass and it’s a Friday. So Peter doesn’t have anything stopping him from sending a text from Stiles’ phone claiming to be at Scott’s house before carrying his sleeping form to his bed. Derek helps silently take off his shoes and replace his jeans with a pair of sweats he’d left the last time he spent the night. Peter removes Stiles’ overshirt so that he’s only wearing a plain tee and sets him under the blankets that Derek has pulled back. Peter and Derek strip down to their boxers and surround him. Stiles starts to stir as Peter climbs in beside him, but he settles well enough when Derek lays down behind him. 

They sleep like that, with Stiles cocooned in their arms and Peter’s cheek resting on Derek’s palm.

 

*** 

 

Stiles wakes to sucking pressure trailing up his thighs and to his cock. Stiles moans when that pressure rises from the base to the tip and wraps around his head. Rubbing the crust out of his eyes with one hand, he reaches down with the other and grabs Peter’s hair. Peter’s hands spread his legs further as Stiles blearily looks around to find both sides of the bed empty but warm. The master bathroom’s light is on. That’s the last coherent thought he has before Peter sinks down completely and Stiles yelps.

But in a hot way. Yeah.

Peter only smirks and continues to suck his brains out. He does something with his tongue that has Stiles bucking up. Only to be pinned right back down to the bed by two unfairly strong hands that only make Stiles moan louder. His socks slide against the sheets as he fails to find purchase and his back arches when Peter slides one hand up from his waist to his collarbone. Suddenly, he’s pinned by the waist and his shoulder and Stiles can do little more than look up at the ceiling and feel. 

Peter’s hands are warm and all-encompassing and Stiles needs them inside him. Teasing and stretching and preparing him, pressing against his prostate without mercy. Stiles needs to be overwhelmed.

He isn’t sure how much of that Peter heard, but he’s moaning now too. He takes his time sitting up, his hands sliding down until they’re resting on his naked thighs, saliva coating his dick and making the air cold. Peter doesn’t say anything. He simply leans down for a chaste kiss that isn’t very chaste at all. Stiles keeps him still as he deepens the kiss into something filthy and perfect before Peter groans and pulls away. Stiles whines but is quickly appeased by the sight of Peter getting a bottle of lube from the nightstand. It’s the good kind too. Stiles grins. 

Peter moves to start lubing his fingers and Stiles sees a crack in the bathroom door. Just big enough to catch the very startled, very frozen eyes of Derek in the mirror, toothbrush forgotten between his teeth. Stiles is never given a chance to react, because then Peter is pressing into his hole and all thought is lost. 

Stiles gasps as his mate sinks in and stretches him wide. There’s an underlying burn alongside the pleasure and Stiles moans. The burn fades as Stiles starts thrusting, forcing the fingers deeper and clenching. Peter groans and pulls out. He’d gotten to three fingers and Stiles whines at their absence. Peter is quick to drop down so that he’s sucking bruises high on his neck, positioning himself to push in. 

Stiles doesn’t wait. Peter gets as far as pushing his blunt head at his hole before Stiles is thrusting. Peter loses all caution when his head is enveloped by his mate’s tight heat and bottoms out in one harsh thrust. Stiles screams, but not in pain, not completely, and Peter grins into his neck as he starts a rhythm both punishing and loving. Punishing in the relentless beating Stiles’ hole is enduring and loving in the gentle scrape of claws down all of Stiles’ most sensitive parts. Stiles is a mess of breathless moans and wordless whines as he’s left to do little but lay back and bask in his wolf’s attention. 

Stiles tenses when he comes and Peter is quick to follow. They’re both breathing heavily when Stiles’ laughs and says “You can stop hiding. We don’t mind.” Because if Peter had a problem with Derek seeing them then he wouldn’t have done anything with Derek so close nor would they be fucking so often in the living room.  
Derek is hesitant to open the door all the way and he looks to the floor as if ashamed when he sees them tangled as they are. Stiles lets his legs go limp in Peter’s hold as he stretches and Peter sits up without pulling out or letting his thighs go. Neither do anything to shield their nudity. Derek looks up and immediately flushes. Peter tuts and says “We don’t hide from you. Don’t start hiding from us.”

It’s then that Stiles sees the tent at the bottom of Derek’s low shirt. He must have hoped they wouldn’t notice through the layers but Stiles deflates at the sight. With a hopeless smile, Stiles sits up and knee walks to the edge of the bed and holds his arms out for Derek to fall into. Peter gasps at the sudden shift when he’s left behind him. Nevertheless, he smiles encouragingly at Derek when he turns terrified eyes to him at Stiles’ invitation. Derek is still hesitant when he walks the two steps into Stiles’ arms but relaxes when Peter leans over Stiles and slides his hand up Derek’s arm and hugs him from the side. 

“I don’t care if you like to watch Derek.” Stiles whispers into Derek’s ear.

“I actually rather enjoy it.” Peter adds. 

Stiles gives him a look that says they’ll be talking about that later.

Peter’s answering smirk is far softer than he’s used to it being. 

They let Derek go. Stiles stumbles out of bed grumbling about how he’s all sticky now and Peter’s welcome to join him if he likes. Peter declines only because he’d much rather keep Stiles’ scent on him by bathing instead. 

Derek is wearing a new shirt by the time Stiles is dressed and ready for the breakfast Peter is preparing. Stiles is reading over Derek’s shoulder on the couch when Peter sets three plates of Scottish eggs on the coffee table. Stiles sits in Peter’s lap rather than on the floor and lets him feed cut-up pieces of his eggs to him instead of doing it himself. Derek sits close enough that Stiles can spread out his legs and rest his feet in Derek’s lap. Derek smiles into his plate. Peter sits back so that Stiles can feed him in turn.

Stiles knows they’re being disgustingly adorable right now but he’s feeling too good about it to care. 

Peter’s hair is wet brushing against him when he kisses the crumbs off Stiles’ cheek. Stiles’ laughs and stands up, collecting their empty plates and heading to the kitchen. He soaks the pan after putting away the leftovers. Derek is curled up into Peter’s side when he returns. They’re on the couch and flipping through Netflix. Stiles’ sits back down on Peter’s lap and tangles his legs with Derek’s. It’s Saturday, so Stiles doesn’t worry about anything other than right here and now. 

Peter chooses Sense8 and they watch.

 

*** 

 

Peter is just starting Deathly Hallows when two familiar arms drape themselves across his shoulders from behind. Peter looks up just as Stiles leans down and kisses him slow and sweet. They break apart smiling and Stiles leans more of his weight onto the back of the couch. His hands start to wander under his shirt as he croons into his ear “You’re plotting. Care to share?”

Peter hums. “I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about.”

At that, Stiles straightens up and walks around the couch. Peter is quick to set his book aside once it becomes clear he’s about to get a lap full of Stiles. He’s smirking as he straddles his thighs, his hands sliding up and around his shoulders. Peter rests his hands on his hips and falls into Stiles’ kiss. 

Peter knows what he’s doing. Knows this sensual slide of tongues is meant to loosen his lips in the most literal sense. Knows the hands cupping his face are trying to pry out his secrets. Knows he’s lulling him into a false sense of security before he strikes.

Gods, he loves him. 

Stiles pulls away and Peter’s chasing him before he can catch himself. Stiles’ smirk grows softer but no less triumphant. Peter can’t find it in himself to be too hung up about it.

“We are bound.” Stiles whispers into his lips. “I feel what you feel. So, care to share?” Those last three words could have been a sentence each with how he let them fall off his lips. Each a physical caress though he never once makes contact. 

Peter knew this would come up eventually. He wanted this to come up, but it’s still terrifying. Still feels too early. Too soon to add such a new element to their relationship, but lying was never truly an option.

“I love you.” It needs to be said. “I love this.” This, being what they’ve made. Their routine and their pack and this. 

Stiles is hanging onto every word, rubbing circles into his cheekbones.

“We are everything we need to be and more, but I can’t help but think we could build something greater.”

“You’re talking about Derek.” Stiles states, smile indulgent and fingers gentle as they stroke down his cheek and rest in the space between his shirt and collarbone. 

Peter is silent in shock. Stiles sees it and chuckles.

“You didn’t really think I don’t notice how he looks at you? Or how you look at him before you shake yourself out of it. Or how he looks at me when he thinks we aren’t looking. When we’re too busy with each other to see how he stares. You didn’t really think I don’t notice how hard you come when he’s within earshot and we both know he’s hanging onto every word.” Stiles drops his head onto Peter’s shoulder, tracing patterns into Peter’s skin, his voice turning solemn. “How he forces himself not to see and not to feel for fear of hurting us. For doing something wrong. How he’s so careful not to let his touch turn suggestive. To not be too intimate. Too close. Too affectionate. For fear of hurting us.” Stiles looks up at him now, they lock eyes and Peter’s heart breaks for his pack at what he says next. “He isn’t happy. Not truly. Not completely. And I hate it. I hate how forced his smiles are sometimes. When we’re together and happy. I try to include him. I try but I haven’t been giving him what he wants because you can’t just give something like that when you’ve already given it to someone else. And he knows he can’t ask because that wouldn’t be right and he knows I love you because I do love you. I love you so much and I wouldn’t take back this bond for the world. But-“

Peter shushes him, soft and comforting as Stiles’ voice starts to break and tears threaten to spill. “I love you. I love you both and I know how you feel because I’ve been struggling as well. I want to include him. I want us all to be happy together. So that nobody is left behind. I want to invite him into our bed and our lives. Not for a little while and not any different than what we are to each other. I want us to be together. Bound together. As pack, but as mates as well. I want all of us to be so intertwined that you cannot tell one from the other. But never if you were uncomfortable or hesitant. I cannot take this if you do not want it too.”

“I do. I want him beside us. I want to see him content in our arms and wrung out on pleasure that we give him and nobody else. I want you to be there when I’m away and I want to be there when you are unable. I want him to stand by our side and I want to stand by yours.” Stiles rests their foreheads together as tears really do run down his cheeks and Peter kisses them away as he wraps his arms around his mate and holds on fiercely. Stiles buries his face into his neck, arms wrapped tightly around him once more, and Peter runs a hand through his hair. 

He didn’t know what he expected, but he never thought this would go so well. That Stiles would understand so readily. That he would want to pursue this as well. But, he supposes he shouldn’t have been surprised at all. His mate has always understood him. Has never looked at him and assumed the worst. Has always listened before judging. Has always found him worthy of more than he could have ever thought he himself deserved. 

Triple bonds are tricky. The ritual itself isn’t difficult, or so he’s heard, but it is hard to come by due to the general attitude towards such unions. Wolves are monogamous by nature, but they are becoming more common as they grow more accepted these days. It shouldn’t be too hard to get the information by the time they finish courting Derek. He’ll start by asking around his younger contacts. At the very least, they’ll answer him honestly. 

But for now, he thinks he’ll hold his mate until Derek returns. He’ll start dinner and Stiles will set Netflix up so that they can finish Sense8. Derek will start a new book and Stiles will curl up with him and read over his shoulder even though he knows it gets on Derek’s nerves. Eventually, Derek will give up on the book and tackle Stiles to the ground and that’s how Peter will find them as he sets their plates on the table before fetching his own. Then they’ll sit together with their legs tangled under the table until dinner is eaten and the credits roll. Peter will carry a drooling Stiles to bed because it’s a Friday and Derek’s already texted the boy’s father. Derek will clean the dishes and soak the pans before curling up in bed himself and nobody will wake up screaming because they’re all together.

And nothing can hurt them if they’re all together.

**Author's Note:**

> Stiles seduces Peter into revealing his plans for wooing Derek but Peter sees right through him from the start and goes along with it because he was going to tell him anyway. Also, he falls a little more in love with him because of it.


End file.
